Light Up the Sky
by Amaryllis D. Namikaze
Summary: When the Seigaku Tennis Team goes to the States to watch the Junior Tennis Tournament, they meet a very interesting nine-year-old: Echizen Ryoma, who, apparently, wasn't as indifferent as he appeared to be and had a somber past. /Overprotective!Seigaku - FujiRyo
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue: Echizen Ryoma**

* * *

_Broken wings how fragile you can be__  
__I just can't let you leave,__  
__Alone soaring endlessly throughout__  
__The pure sky up above.__  
__Don't hold back your tears,__  
__There's nothing left to fear__  
__Just listen to your heart and smile only for yourself._

_Hearing your soft voice never seemed to hurt yet_  
_Now I can't ever seem to forget it._  
_And I just can't bare it,_  
_I wish that things could be like they were before._  
_Even though you never tell me,_  
_Looking at you I know exactly what you mean,_  
_I see it through your eyes._

_Bury your sorrows beneath the ground_  
_Why do we need to fly, as long as I am by your side._  
_Even if we never speak again_  
_I'll wait for you till the end, I can't ever let you go!_

_Broken wings how fragile you can be_  
_I just can't let you leave,_  
_Alone soaring endlessly throughout_  
_The pure sky up above._  
_Don't hold back your tears,_  
_There's nothing left to fear_  
_Just listen to your heart and smile only for yourself_

_..._

Original Song by - Aqua Timez  
English Lyrics: Megami36  
Fandub Sung by – MidiGuyDP

* * *

**W**hy they ended here was still confusing.

Fuji Syuusuke was an intelligent person – not only one would say that he was a genius -, making it quite possible to understand, of course, how: they had taken an airplane and flew across the ocean until the United States. Why, though, he could only wonder.

It had all started three weeks prior the timeline, when their tennis coach, Ryuuzaki Sumire, announced that their team had received from the principal an opportunity to watch the Junior (being it of people their age, of course) Tennis Tournament in the States. Nobody wanted to pass such a chance – to actually see people their age playing in a true tournament and in the United States, no less! So, they had come.

Oh, Syuusuke wasn't confused as to _why _they ended in this country – it was clear for him, mind you -, but why were their group sitting in the park in front of the place the tournament two hours before the start of said event… This was a mystery.

Being, he turned to Tezuka, intending to ask him why.

"They were disturbing the peace at the hotel hall and we kindly left."

If Syuusuke didn't know better, he'd say his team's captain was being sarcastic. As that wasn't the situation, he let it pass, continuing to smile. Oishi had achieved success in stopping Kaidoh's and Momoshiro's fight, though Eiji was now trying to skip around the park, tired of being so still. Inui had his notebook out, writing whatever detail he deemed important. Taka rubbed the back of his head nervously, glancing between Eiji's hopeful eyes and the largeness of the park. Fuji thought about Arai, Ikeda and the other freshmen, second-years and third-years, who got tired from their _curious _behavior and left with the coach to take care of them (Tezuka was supposedly responsible for this group). Momo and Kaidoh were the only non-regulars that didn't found their actions strange – or found anyway, but ignored.

Syuusuke's smile widened.

"Perhaps we should walk around a little. I've never been to the States before," he said as his teammates looked at him with different expressions. Fuji wondered if Oishi could look more desperate than now as Eiji started to fidget in agreement.

Momoshiro was grinning at once.

"Good idea, senpai. We could eat some hotdogs and-"

His speech was cut, however, when he turned to the left and collided right into somebody. The tennis team watched with curiosity as a small figure crashed to the ground. Oishi went to help, being his usual mother-hen.

"Gomenasai, gomenasai," the teen was saying, before remembering that they were in America and this child probably couldn't comprehend it. So, Oishi struggled to say in a bad pronounced English, "**So-rry. Sor-ry.**"

The kid looked up and for a moment everybody felt their breath be taken away. He was incredibly… pretty. Not hot or handsome, but incredibly cute in a childlike way. His face was soft-looking, pleasant to look at – be it because of his feminine traits and frail chin, be it because of his button nose and thin eyebrows. His eyes were somewhat too big – could someone have it as huge as his? –, though its curious golden color and catlike appearance made it beautiful. Eiji refrained from touching his smooth-looking hair as it also had an unusual coloring: emerald-tinted black.

All in all, it was a very cute boy.

The only problem was that they thought it was a girl.

"Momo!" Oishi started to reprimand the other teen. "Apologize right now to this little girl!"

"**Sourry**," said person spoke at once in a heavily accented English, afraid of the 'mama bear's' wrath. As for the pronunciation, well, only Fuji-senpai and Tezuka-buchou knew this language very well.

The child frowned – more like pouted – looking weirdly concentrated.

"**It's alright,**" s/he replied, not really bothered.

Inui noticed that s/he was wearing a white polo shirt, black shorts and small sneakers with a big bag hanging over his right shoulder (_'Probably right-handed'_, he took note). The data man scribbled it down and observed again, measuring his height, before nodding and writing with neat letters: _134 centimeters._

"**Did you come to watch the tournament?**" Fuji questioned with less accent than the others, though you could detect hints of it.

The little _girl _raised one eyebrow.

"**I came to play – I'm one of the participants."**

Now _all _of them were taken by surprise. This small girl would compete against bigger boys?

"Ne, ne, chibi," Eiji didn't take into account that the girl probably didn't even know what _chibi_ meant. "You're, like, seven… how can you play with boys being so tiny?" He brought his thumb and index finger closer together, showing what he meant.

She blinked at them, appearing fazed for a moment, before apparently deciding that they weren't worth her anger.

"**I'm nine, not seven."**

Turning her back to them and walking toward the now being fulfilled tournament's courts she briefly stopped to smirk over her shoulder.

"Ne," _he _spoke it perfect Japanese, startling them, "I'm also a boy, not a girl. Mada mada dane."

And as discreetly he came, he walked away.

"Saa, he didn't even introduce himself," Fuji chided with an uncanny smile. He felt strangely satisfied for having come earlier. _Maybe that's why_, he mused.

* * *

His name was Echizen Ryoma as they discovered it.

He only showed up in the court in the third game, which was against a thirteen-year-old kid that wasn't really good. The small Echizen hadn't used any special technique so far, but still managed to easily win. It was truly impressive to watch.

"That Nanjiroh taught him well…" Momoshiro heard Ryuuzaki-sensei mutter beside him during Echizen Ryoma's semi-final game. The middle-school freshman turned to her, surprised.

"Do you know him, sensei?"

This made everyone pay attention to the coach.

The elderly woman smiled almost proudly, "Of course. I taught his father tennis a long time ago."

"His father?" Kawamura shyly asked.

Ryuuzaki-sensei nodded.

"Un. Echizen Nanjiroh, though commonly called 'Samurai Nanjiroh'."

Arai, who was also listening to the coach, felt his eyes widen.

"No way! As in _The Samurai_?"

"Yep, that's him," Sumire confirmed, smiling a little as she saw the smallest Echizen win his match. "And it looks like his son is Samurai Junior."

"He doesn't look anything special," Ikeda commented and some took into account.

Echizen wasn't exhausted from playing – that was obvious – but his laid-back appearance had disappeared with the excitement from the game, as his hair was a complete mess and his face full of sweat. He somehow lost some of his sparks from earlier before – the cute boy was truly beautiful before – but was in no way ugly.

"His play looks normal to me, I mean, he didn't even use a cool technique or something of the sort," a second-year noticed.

Tezuka observed his teammate, making the other sweat.

"Observe more attentively. It is not that he does not have any techniques – he just chooses not to use them."

A freshman looked at the captain with admired eyes.

"Sugoi, Tezuka-buchou, you can tell it just by looking at him."

Oishi was going to say something, but the referee cut him off, calling the game, "**Game and match to Ryoma Echizen, 6-1**."

"Ne, buchou, how can someone so young play so well?" Momoshiro voiced the question that was in the head of many.

Tezuka stood with his arms crossed, but it was Fuji who answered.

"Age has nothing to do with it – as long as you can play, your age doesn't matter."

"Thank you, Fuji-senpai," all of the kouhai said, bowing shortly.

Fuji only smiled.

_**"The finals: Henry Jones against Ryoma Echizen will start in ten minutes**_," a voice from the speaker announced.

"Cool!" Arai cheered, nearly hitting Ikeda in the process. He flushed as Oishi-fukubuchou reprimanded him.

* * *

**Later...**

* * *

"Nyaaaah, I can't believe the chibi can do a twist serve!" Eiji couldn't stop commenting even after hours since the tournament. They were all truly impressed with the kid's talent.

"Eiji, I understand your admiration, but we're tired and want to sleep," Oishi laughed from the bed beside redhead's.

Oishi, Fuji, Eiji and Tezuka were in one room while Inui, Taka and Momo in another. Kaidoh stayed in a different room, far away from where he and Momoshiro could fight all night long – thankfully.

"But Oishiii," the redhead complained.

"Lights off," Tezuka ordered and Eiji reluctantly did so.

A few seconds of silence in the dark before the acrobat tennis player called again, "Ne, Oishi?"

"Good night, Eiji."

It was Fujiko who answered. His voice was weirdly sweet, which made the other shiver and turn around to face the wall, prepared more than ever to sleep.

Fuji Syuusuke was, after all, the team's sadist.

* * *

**Same day, night...**

* * *

Far away from the hotel the Seigaku Tennis Team was staying, was a very happy Ryoma.

He had won the tournament for the fourth year consecutive, maintaining his title as the best junior player from the east coast. Ryoma could remember as if it was yesterday when he won for the first time – being only five at the time; the press had done a big fuss about it, calling him the "Prince of Tennis" and other silliness like this. Four years later, he was still the Prince, only taller (though questionable, in Ryoga's opinion) and better.

He was in his room, waiting for his mother to call for dinner – it would Japanese, as it always was when he won. His father was downstairs, probably reading some perverted magazine while also waiting. Ryoma could hear his mother singing in the kitchen even from upstairs. Ryoga couldn't manage to come, but the younger wasn't really fazed with it – his brother was unpredictable all the time.

Without noticing, though, Ryoma slept, all the while listening to his mother singing. He hadn't realized how tired he was until lying down on his bed. Maybe he could sleep just a little bit… his mother would call him… when the dinner is ready….

But when he woke up – hours later – it was only because of Karupin scratching his arm almost softly.

"Ouch," Ryoma muttered absent-mindedly, rubbing his abused arm. The Himalayan cat meowed cutely. "Why are you doing this, Karupin?"

The cat – thankfully – didn't answer, just meowing once again. Ryoma rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and glanced at the clock: eight a.m.

"Ehh? I wonder why Kaa-san didn't wake me up…"

Ryoma stood up, stretching his sore muscles, and went downstairs. The house was silent and his mother wasn't singing anymore. Everything looked absolutely normal, but something wasn't right in this scenario.

"Kaa-san? Oyaji?" He called, but the silence once again greeted him.

He tried calling them again. Where could they be? Ryoma reached the kitchen and his mouth opened in a perfectly shaped _o_. He vaguely heard Karupin meow again, but he wasn't paying true attention as his wobbly legs gave up under him and he sat on the ground.

Ryoma couldn't – _didn't want to – _believe it.

There was so much red everywhere.

Was it possible for a human body to be contorted like that? He was sure his mother wasn't so flexible.

Red. Red. Red.

Was it possible to be twisted like this? How had his father head – lacking the winking eye and perverted grin – ended so far away from his body? Ryoma was sure both were together, but why one of them was in the table and the other… _not?_

Red. Red. Red.

Why was everything so damn _red_? His parents looked up at the ceiling – at _him – _with blank eyes. Were the humans' eyes supposed to stay so still?

Red. Red. Red.

Ryoma did the only thing he could manage at the time: _he screamed_.

* * *

**Buchou – **captain

**Fukubuchou – **vice-captain

**Senpai – **upperclassmen

**Kouhai – **underclassmen

**Kaa-san – **mother

**Oyaji – **father

**Chibi – **child, small kid

* * *

First, I want you all to understand something: **this is a rewrite of a story under the same name!**

Second: in this story Ryoma is two years younger than the average freshman in Seigaku Junior High (twelve years old). The prologue happens a year before the actual story. And why did I make him younger? Well, because I wanted and because I can. Imagine that he started school two years earlier than your average kid, I don't know – I just wanted this way.

Three: **THIS IS A YAOI **(more like shotacon…) **STORY, DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. **Due to previous votes, the pairing is _FujiRyoma. _

And finally: for all those who were reading the original or whatever you want to call it, keep it in mind that there will be some changes.

That's all people, until next time,

Amy.


	2. Don't Hate the Player, Hate the Game

**Chapter 1:**

**Don't Hate the Player, Hate the Game**

* * *

_"What did I do to deserve this?_

_Tell me the truth and don't lie_

_You're pretty good at it, but, no, not this time"_

- Back Around, Demi Lovato.

* * *

**Ten months later...**

* * *

Japan was boring.

Nothing different seemed to happen in the country. There were always polite people, kids running carefree in the playground and leaves failing from its trees. Even nature seemed to have routine as it was always windy during lunch time and evening, but hot in the afternoon. It was a complete change from before. It was too perfect – it was too boring.

Ryoma, however, couldn't bring himself to completely dislike it. He preferred to be bored instead of excited – that's why he didn't play sports anymore. Sports made his body flush with adrenaline, pumping his veins, making them thrilled. And everything that could remotely remember _it _was to be avoided.

Ryoma, then, chose another hobby: painting. The preteen was actually quite good, especially after so many months being alone and with nothing but a head full of unwelcomed thoughts. Yes, Ryoma liked to paint. Painting was fine. It was.

The emerald-haired boy sighed.

It was never good enough.

"Ne, Chibisuke, Nanako-chan is calling for dinner," a voice announced from the door of his new room.

Ryoga was seven years older than Ryoma, being (annoyingly) taller, stronger and (supposedly) smarter. He had started senior high in a school that the younger never bothered to learn the name and was in the last year. Ryoma had no idea of what his brother would do for life, but was sure that it wasn't tennis. Even if he didn't show it, the older Echizen was also affected by their parents' death.

Ryoga smirked seeing his brother sleepy eyes – eyes that they shared, as well as their unusual hair color. They were incredible alike, but, aside from the obviously height difference, there were others. The older one had sharper eyes, while the younger had wider ones. Ryoga carried himself with a laidback attitude, and Ryoma was just _too cool _for it, always smirking and challenging people he _shouldn't _challenge. Or, at least, he had been this way.

"'m not hungry," Ryoma mumble through his lazy lips. Karupin meowed in agreement – though she agreed with her master most of the time – and cuddled closer.

"Awww, don't be like this, Chibisuke. Our dearest cousin made a Japanese dinner just for you," Ryoga didn't notice his brother's flinch at his words. "Think of it as a welcome dinner to Japan!"

Unfortunately, Ryoma didn't share the same happiness. His brother was _happy _to be here, and the younger sibling was just happy to be away from the States. For the taller brother, Japan was a place he wanted to go – for Ryoma, Japan was a place he had no choice but goes to.

"I have school tomorrow and am suffering from jet-lag. _Go away_," Ryoma threatened against the pillow, too tired to get up and glare at his brother. Ryoga wouldn't feel intimidated either way.

Ryoga stayed in silence for a long time, almost fooling his otouto into thinking that he had gotten out. The younger was rightfully surprised the other touched his hair tenderly, having sat beside him.

"I know it's difficult for you, but try to-"

"Onii-san, I don't need your help – I need my sleep."

"Chibisuke, you can't keep bottling your fee-"

"_Ryoga_, go away."

Said person sighed, "_Ryoma_, please."

The preteen decided to drop the discussion and close his eyes, intending to sleep. The older one sighed once again and got up. He paused for a moment, looking at his baby brother and, when he spoke, it was with a soft voice uncommon of him.

"Ne, Chibisuke, you should try to… live more."

Ryoma said nothing, staying with his face against the fluffy pillow.

Japan was boring – and it was so sad to think that he only ended here because couldn't stay_ there_.

* * *

Morning came too soon. Ryoma wished he could just go back to bed or, at least, be home-schooled as he had been in the last year. However Nanako would have none of that – and she was determined to take good care of him.

It wouldn't make difference if he went to school today, anyway – he already knew most of the second year curriculum and some of the third. The acceleration test he had taken two days earlier got a perfect score and the principal was proud to tell him that. Ryoma couldn't care less, as the only reason he had managed such a thing was because he had too much free time back in America.

His school uniform wasn't ready yet, so he settled with a normal set of clothes. The black-and-white striped hoodie he wore over his red T-shirt were perfect to listen to his iPod. He'd attract more attention than normal, but Ryoma was a master at ignoring other people. Besides, the small preteen figured that since he was entering a month after the start of the classes it wouldn't make much of difference.

"I'm off," Ryoma paused to say to Nanako when passing the kitchen's door.

"Oh," she emerged from there. "Don't you want to eat breakfast, though? I made bacon and eggs."

"No, thanks," he grimaced. _Western food_… Blergh. "I need to go earlier since I don't know my classes and all."

"Ah, of course. Ryoga said the same thing, though he went out with two pieces of bacon hanging off his mouth – I swear he gets stupider every time I see him. Anyway, have a good day, Ryoma-kun."

Ryoma waved over his shoulder, "Aa. Bye."

Thankfully, school was still pretty empty when he arrived. He saw a group of people walking toward the gymnasium and another one to some courts – he wondered if they were part of sports groups and had practice, before deciding he couldn't care less. Ryoma masterly ignored the stares sent his way – a short, unknown kid with casual clothes was tranquilly walking in the school – and stopped only to ask a boy and his friend the direction to the principal's room (he had, of course, ignored and forgotten from when he came here with his brother days earlier).

"A-ah, this way," the older boy said, eyeing him. He had a weird hair, it having two strands in his forehead and the lower part being shaved. Ryoma imagined him as a bowling ball with a body.

"Ne, ne, Oishi," he heard the other boy, a redheaded one, ask his friend once he was apparently out of ear range. "Do you know him?"

" No, Eiji. He must be a new student here."

"Aa!" The other agreed, jumping onto his friend. It was getting weirder.

Ryoma resisted rolling his eyes – _of course _he was new. Sighing, he changed is course.

* * *

"Settle down, settle down, class," a dark-haired man said to his class of junior students.

"_Fshhuuu_," was heard in the back, followed by a "Repeat it, Mamushi!"

"Momoshiro, Kaidoh, be quiet," the teacher reprimanded as the two teens sat down, still glaring at each other. The other students sweat-dropped, used to their antics. "We have a new student with us and I ask him to be treated well. He's younger than you and will be attending some classes here and some with the third year."

Whispers broke around the class and the teacher's eyebrow started to twitch.

"I said, _treat him well_," he spelled dangerously slow and the students shut up at once. Mokume Kunugi-sensei was scaring as Hell when angered. A boy in the front gulped. "Echizen-kun? You can come in."

Everyone observed as a small boy, around 140cm, entered the classroom. His face was still baby-fatted and had huge eyes that were characteristic of children. All in all, the new students was…

"_Kawaii_," the class seemed to breathe at the same time.

Kaidoh frowned at the new classmate. He was strangely familiar, but Kaidoh was sure that he'd remember someone with such remarkable face. This kid wore a blank expression – not sat, just austere. It was kind of hard to forget this emotionless stare. But where would he have seen it? He couldn't remember the name "Echizen".

"Echizen Ryoma. Yoroshiku."

Mokume-sensei sweat-dropped at the short introduction and, knowing that he'd never manage to give his lecture until the students were satisfied, he asked the preteen, "Do you mind answering some of their questions?"

Said person shook his head.

Akagawa Chihiro didn't waste time, squealing her answer, "How old are you? You don't old enough to be in junior high."

If Ryoma was annoyed by her question, he didn't show – not that he expressed any emotion either way. So, he simply replied with a bored voice, "Ten." Straight to the point.

Momoshiro grinned.

"Do you play any sports?" If he did, it'd be fun to have him on the tennis courts. Momo could already picture him being hugged by Kikumaru-sempai. The preteen's voice, however, said another thing.

"I don't."

And that was it.

"Ne, what do you like to do then, Echizen-san?" Akagawa Chitaru, Chihiro's twin, questioned with a soft voice. Differently from her loud sister, she was quiet and as gentle as a flower.

"Painting," he said and, thankfully, the teacher decided that enough was enough. He indicated a seat in the back and Ryoma gladly walked there. As soon as Mokume-sensei started his class – Japanese History -, Ryoma started to doze off.

Most of his classes were with the third year and his schedule was arranged so he wouldn't have to go walking around school all the time. Monday and Wednesday morning would be spent in this room with Japanese History, Geography and Physical Education, while Thursday afternoons would be full of Physics and Japanese classes. The rest would be with third year: World History, Biology, English, Chemistry, Mathematics and Social Studies.

The school principal had been very impressed at the results of his tests. However, some subjects were enough to cover the entire first and second years, some stopped at the third one. Ryoma was faced with three options: entering second year and tolerating most subjects for a long year; entering third year and being at disadvantage at a few subjects; or dividing his schedule during an entire year and, at the end, do both final test to see how well he'd do (that is, if he would go to the third year officially or to the first year of high school). Either option he had to choose was impressive itself, as he was only ten going eleven. Ryoma, obviously, had opted for the third choice.

Even so, he wasn't one to pay attention – much less to Japanese history, a subject he never had in America and knew only the basic. Soon enough, he was napping, hiding behind a tall boy who was sitting in front of him.

Said boy was Kaidoh, who observed as the kid fell asleep as soon as the teacher started talking.

"Fshhhh," he made, causing Momoshidiot that was eating a snack behind a book to look at him.

"What, Mamushi?"

"Fshhhh," he repeated, glancing pointedly at the much younger boy.

Momoshiro, annoyed, looked up at his rival and, consequently, at emerald-haired preteen behind him. Heh, so the kid wasn't one to pay attention? Momo guessed that since the kid was advanced and all, he'd be one to pay meticulous attention.

"Hey," Momoshiro called, throwing a paper ball at him, "_Hey!"_

The preteen sleepily blinked, looking around at who was calling him.

"Mokume-sensei hates when someone sleep," Momo decided to help the newbie, after all, Mokume-sensei could be really scary when angered. Even Kaidoh was afraid of him, and that meant something. It was rumored that Fuji-sempai was the only one who could scare the teacher away, but Fuji could scare _anyone _away.

Figures.

Ryoma said nothing, putting his head down once again and starting to sleep.

By the end of that class, Momoshiro discovered that one more person could make Mokume-sensei shut up. Apparently, Echizen knew the answer to every question, even while not paying attention and sleeping. So, the teacher simply let the preteen be.

Momoshiro was, all the while, grinning. _Yeah, gotta get this kid in the courts._

* * *

Lunch came soon and Ryoma decided to find a good spot to sleep some more. He wasn't hungry at all and when he stayed awake, he tended to think. The last thing he wanted to do nowadays was _thinking_. He didn't want to replay the same image over and over again. It was enough seeing _it _once.

"Hey, Echizen, lunch with me!" Momoshiro invited, grinning down at the kid.

"Yadda," said person answered, already making his way out of the classroom. To his surprise, Momoshiro held him by his shoulder.

"Don't be so boring! C'mon, I'll introduce you to our sempai-tachi!" Well, technically, since Ryoma would be in some third-year classes, he didn't have any sempai, but it was too troublesome to correct Momoshiro, so he left as that.

"Yadda."

Momoshiro ignored this, pulling him by his shoulders and walking through people in the corridor. They went upstairs and opened a door, reaching the school's roof. Ryoma tried to flee away once again as he saw a bunch of people he had no interest in meeting, but gave up as Momoshiro wouldn't have none of this.

"Ohayo, sempai-tachi," Momo greeted in an animated manner, pushing Ryoma to stop in front of him, "This is Echizen Ryoma, a newbie in my class. Echizen, this is our senpai-tachi."

Ryoma only blinked with a bored expression, observing. There was a tall, spiky-haired guy with glasses scribbling something down on a notebook, and beside him sat a brown-haired male with hair that reminded him of Elvis Presley and eating sushi. A calm brunette with a creepy smile in his face and a serious-looking guy weren't eating, only observing him too. A guy with a partially cropped hair and a redhead smiled at him, friendly and excitedly, respectively. Even that weird, snake-looking guy from his class was there.

"Nya, you're the chibi from earlier!" The redhead pointed out.

"… do I know you?" Ryoma bluntly asked. Seriously, he'd remember someone as, err, lively as him. Or not… well, Ryoma wasn't good with names and faces. If they weren't important, why should he remember everyone he met or glanced at?

"Unnnya! Ochibi is being mean, _Oishi_!" The redhead whined to his companion.

"Err, that's Kikumaru Eiji-sempai," Momoshiro introduced.

"'s okay, Ochibi, I forgive you," the redhead named Kikumaru decided, making a V sign to him. Ryoma blinked, wishing he had fled from the classroom more discreetly.

"Well, you already know Mamushi…"

_"Fshhhuuu!"_

_Couldn't this guy say something else?_

"… And this is Oishi Shuichiro-sempai," he indicated the funny-haired one, who waved in a greeting. "Kawamura Takashi-sempai," the one with the Elvis Presley hair grinned. "Inui Sadaharu-sempai," Momoshiro indicated the one with the notebook, who murmured '_ii data_'. "Fuji Syuusuke-sempai," the creepy one smile wider and Ryoma fought the instinct to step back. "And Tezuka-Kunimitsu-buchou, well, he's the Captain of the tennis team, so, he's buchou…"

Ryoma rolled his eyes. Did Momoshiro really expect him to remember all these names?

"Saa, you don't talk much, do you?" The creepy one, Fuji, smiled. Well, more, since he was already smiling.

Ryoma didn't answer.

"Nya, Ochibi, do you play tennis? All of us do! We are the regulars of the team, isn't it cool? Do you wish to be one to? Can you enter the tennis club?" Eiji was talking so fast and excitedly that Ryoma almost didn't understand what he said, even if being fluent in Japanese.

"Calm down, Eiji, or he can't answer you," Oishi advised, scratching his neck sheepishly, as if it was his fault that Kikumaru talked so fast.

"I don't," Ryoma replied, sitting down with his back against the wall next to the door.

Everybody looked at him in confusion – except for that Tezuka guy, who was as expressionless as a rock, and the creepy one, who just…_smiled_. Seriously, what was up with those two?

"He asked me if I played tennis. I don't," he decided to clarify.

"Nya, why not, Ochibi?"

Ryoma's right eyebrow twitched, "Don't call me that." Only three people noticed how Echizen skillfully ignored the 'why' question.

"Why not? _You're_an ochibi."

"I don't like it."

"Unyaa, Ochibi!"

Ryoma got up, dusting off his clothes. Kawamura looked at him, startled, "Where are you going to?"

"The bell will ring," he replied, walking out. Sure enough, the ball rang as soon as the younger one was downstairs. The others started to get up and head to their classes too.

Fuji and Tezuka stayed behind, sharing a glance.

"He surely was the boy from earlier as Eiji said," Fuji smiled.

"Aa."

"I wonder why the others don't remember _who_Echizen Ryoma is. We saw him in the United States, after all."

"Aa."

"Well, it's funnier this way, isn't it, buchou?"

"Aa."

"He doesn't have the same, cocky presence as before, does he? He looks almost... dead inside."

"Aa." It could be comical how the conversation was one-sided, but Fuji was used to his friend's way.

Fuji opened his eyes, smirking. Ryoma should have _prayed_ to Japan continue being boring.

* * *

Ryoma's next class was English and, so, he made his course to the 3-B classroom. He made his way in after seeing only the teacher there. It was a middle-aged man with grey hair and impatient, but kind, expression.

"Ah, Echizen-kun, I heard from the principal that you'd be coming. Be welcome and any doubts, don't hesitate to ask. Oh, you can call me Takahiro-sensei, alright?"

The younger, however, didn't answer, just nodding his head and going to sit in whatever double-seat there was. Students started to enter the class and, curious, they observed the child sitting in some mid-table; his feet didn't even touching the ground, since the seniors' chairs were taller than the rest of the school. When everybody had finally entered, the teacher coughed to their attention.

"As you noticed, we have a new student with us. Echizen-kun got a grade good enough in English and some other subjects to have some classes with the seniors, while some were high enough for him to be with juniors. Any question?"

"Um, sensei, isn't he a little too… young?" A random third-year asked.

"But he's cute enough," Fuji Syuusuke smiled serenely, making the boy who asked shut up. Nobody messes with Fuji – _nobody_.

Ryoma just eyed his, er, table partner warily. Why did it have to be the creepy brunet from the roof? It could have been the one with the weird-shaved hair, the tallest creepy with glasses, the stern one with glasses, the Elvis-alike – hell, even the happy-go-lucky one. But, nooo, here was he sitting beside the smiling weirdo.

Ryoma's eyes wandered to the front of the classroom and he decided to sleep, since it was better than paying attention. Takahiro-sensei, on the other hand, had other plans – in the middle of his class, he glanced at his students and saw the youngest one napping.

"Echizen!" Takahiro-sensei barked. Some students jumped in their seats, surprised. Tezuka showed no reaction whatsoever and Fuji continued smiling as serenely as always, but the teacher was used to it. The called person stayed, however, fast asleep. "ECHIZEN!"

The boy calmly brought his head up, blinking with sleepy eyelids and making some girl coo at this. The teacher frowned, "Read the paragraph three of page forty-four."

The preteen opened his book with no hurry and simply started reading! His voice was accented, but not in a Japanese way… it was an… America accent? Weird. And, then, Takahiro-sensei remembered that the young one had lived in the States before transferring to Seigaku, as stated by the principal.

He wanted to hit himself.

He _really _wanted to hit himself when Echizen finished the reading, asking, "Is that it, sensei?"

"Y-yes, Echizen-kun, thank you."

The boy said nothing more, lowering his head once again and starting to sleep. The teacher let him be – and ignored Fuji's wider smile. This one was seriously scaring.

* * *

After the last class that day – Chemistry (which he had with the third years) -, Ryoma had in mind going home and sleeping for the rest of the afternoon. His plans were changed, though, when Eiji glomped him.

"Kiku…maru-" Ryoma managed to choke out, feeling his breath slip away.

"Eiji, you're strangling him!" Oishi, the mother-hen, shouted.

"Eh? Sorry, Ochibi, it's just that you're _so _cute!" The redhead said with a big smile. Ryoma wanted to cut this smile from his face – my goodness, how could someone hug this _strong? _"Why don't you come with us to the tennis practice?"

"I told you – I don't play tennis," Ryoma was annoyed, but his expression showed nothing.

"Fujiko," Kikumaru crossed his arms, turning to his best friend, who was smiling by his side, "convince Ochibi to go with us."

"Saa, I can't make him go against his will, Eiji," Fuji smiled. Well, continued smiling. _Seriously, did he ever stop smiling?_ Echizen was starting to be wary of this guy.

"Nya, why not? You always make the others do something they don't want to," the redhead accused.

"What was that?"

"N-nothing," Eiji stuttered at his friend's calm question. Nobody dared to comment on this.

Ryoma started picking up his bag when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. He looked up to see Fuji.

"You should come to the tennis practice with us. It would make Eiji happy."

Echizen glanced around, noticing that Fuji was the only tennis regular left in the classroom. He blinked in a bored manner.

"Yadda."

Fuji's friendly smile tightened, what made Ryoma stop in his spot.

"Let me rephrase it: it would make Eiji happy if you watched the tennis practice. I like when my friend is happy."

Ryoma gulped. Maybe sleep could wait – after all, if he didn't go, he certainly would have nightmares and wouldn't sleep ever again. _Or_, he thought, observing the scaring aura surrounding the older boy, _I'll be put to sleep forever._ Yeah, going to the practice just to _watch _wouldn't hurt, would it?

* * *

In the end, it did.

Ryoma was hoping for the contrary, but to no avail. The last time he had picked a tennis racket to play had been eleven months ago, in the tournament. The last time he had saw a tennis match had been five months ago, when he unluckily passed by a tennis court being used. The last time he had touched a tennis racket had been when he and his brother moved to Japan.

After so many months, he thought that, maybe, it wouldn't hurt to see a match – to hear the sounds of sneakers against the concrete, the sound of balls being hit, the feeling of the sun on his head. After so many months, he thought that, maybe, only maybe, the memories would stay away, that the memories wouldn't hurt.

In the end, it did.

He couldn't bear to see the happy smiles, the chuckles running around the courts, the orders being given by the team captain. It reminded him of a better time. So, when Kikumaru came closer to him, grinning like there was no tomorrow, Echizen snapped.

"Cool, ne, Ochibi? You should enter the tennis club too!"

"I don't wanna enter this rubbish," Ryoma murmured lowly, trembling.

"Huh, did you say something, Echizen?" Momoshiro asked by his other side.

"_I DON'T WANT TO ENTER THE TENNIS CLUB!_" The youngest boy in school shouted, losing his temper. Everybody looked at the trio, wondering what happened. "I _hate _tennis and everything that has to do with it – why can't you just understand that?"

Echizen turned his back to the people and walked away – leaving very confused non-regulars and regulars players, as well as curious specific people.

* * *

_It was raining – and Ryoma hated rain._

_It meant that he couldn't go out and play tennis. Nothing was worse than _not _playing tennis. He was only nine, yet, he was better than most high-school'ers and some professional players. His father had raised him this way, and Ryoma was more than happy to comply._

_His dream of beating his father was still far away, but he could manage four games from him if his oyaji's eyes were closed and two if they were open. It looks like a bad thing, but, actually, it's more than most players reached. Echizen Nanjiroh was, without any doubt, one of the best tennis players in the world._

_And Ryoma was more than excited to win against him._

_However, it was raining – and Ryoma hated rain. It meant that he couldn't go out and play tennis. Nor could he challenge his father for a match._

_The emerald-haired kid sighed. There was nothing to do, except wait. He grew impatient of waiting very quickly, so, he started searching for Karupin – where could have his cat gone to? As Ryoma passed the kitchen door, he heard rushed voices._

_"Ryoga, you already told me. But there's no need to worry, it's only a tennis tournament," he heard his baka oyaji say in his usual carefree voice._

_"Oyaji, this is serious. The Jones family is a dangerous… family," Ryoma wandered why his brother hesitated over that word, "and should not be taken lightly. It's safer for Ryoma to stay out of the Junior Championship."_

_Ryoma found himself undignified – and, apparently, so did Nanjiroh._

_"Ryoga, I understand why you're worried, but nothing bad will come from it. Henry Jones is just a boy and his family won't be mad in a simple tennis competition. What's the worst that could happen? The Jones boy losing?"_

_Ryoma heard his mother sighing at his father's mocking voice._

_"That's exactly what we should be worried about, baka! His, er, family won't be happy if he loses – and you know he will, I mean, Ryoma is the one he'll be playing against. There's no way Chibisuke won't reach the finals, and some players are already discouraged, since they heard a Jones is entering the tournament."_

_Ryoma wasn't understanding anything – what did being a Jones had to do with a tennis tournament? And why would it be dangerous for him to play against this Henry guy? His parents were obviously not preoccupied, but Ryoga never sounded so serious. Still, he wouldn't back out of a tournament only because of a guy!_

_Ryoma frowned._

_One month later, Ryoma did, in fact, win against Henry Jones. And that's where it started._

* * *

An emerald-haired boy bolted up on his bed. His breath came in pants. _It was only a dream_, he told himself, trying to tame his fast-beating heart. _A bad one_. This particular nightmare came at least once a week, and Ryoma never was happier to have it.

It always reminded, after all, that it was his fault.

It was his fault – everything, including his parents' death.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Well, not many changes as the story was short when I decided to rewrite it. Now it's basically new things for all of you. Thank you for those who were accompanying and favorite'd this one too. Thank you for those who reviewed.

Until next time,

Amy.


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